Like Dark Stars
by Vintage Tea Party
Summary: Mark wasn't alright and that O.K. to admit. He'd never felt anything like this before. The very thing he wanted, needed, had to have, hurt him and it made absolutely no sense. He'd spent the past 18 months on his own guided only by reason and facts. But this was an entirely grey area he didn't know how to navigate alone. Fortunately, he finally has help.


_'Cause your scars shine like dark stars, Yeah, your wounds are where the light shines through-Switchfoot_

 **A/N: I had started publishing this story last year but ran into a snag during publishing. But now it's back and it's complete!**

 **Mission Day 689**

"So, you really are going to insist on going through with this?"

"You know, you could try to sound like having a woman's arms around you is not the worst thing in the world," Johanssen said as she nearly bounced into Mark's room.

Of course, he'd brought this all on himself. All because he'd been caught crying in the shower. Like an idiot. Like a pansy.

It wasn't supposed to happen. The event that had precipitated this all had taken place on the day of his rescue, the best day of his life. He had never felt so excited as he had when he realized that it was all really going to work out. All his hair brained crazy schemes had worked and he was really going home. He still couldn't describe all he felt when he saw his crew again. He'd had nothing to be sad about. Tears of joy? Yeah, he had expected that, had already cried some of those in the MAV. But anything that should have made him cry from sadness was behind him, left behind on that desolate red planet.

He'd still been brimming with euphoria and adrenaline when the beautiful painkillers had kicked in making the majority of the pain in his ribs fade away. Everyone said he stunk and the longer he spent in the Hermes' atmosphere around other humans who regularly showered he could begin to smell it for himself. He'd been in the best of spirits when he'd gone to the shower and was greatly looking forward to it.

As he'd stood under the water all of his energy and strength seemed to wash away along with the dirt and grime. The adrenaline from his extraordinary rescue had faded as he relaxed in the hot water leaving him feeling completely drained. The heavier gravity on the ship pushed down on him as the warmth eased his muscles making him weak and shaky. The effort of washing had caused the pain in his ribs to flare up again. Before long he was clean but stuck on the bottom of the shower unable to stand. He was more exhausted than he'd ever been before and probably would have fallen asleep right then and there if he had let himself.

This had not been entirely unexpected to him and so it caused him no concern. He was actually a little surprised he'd been able to finish the shower on his own. After everything he'd been through he wasn't surprised that the pain and exhaustion were now more than his body could take and he was man enough to admit he needed help. In fact, he was a bit giddy at the thought that there finally was help to be had. He'd wrapped a towel around himself and had been prepared to call Beck to come and help him when...

He couldn't. Suddenly, he felt paralyzed. He couldn't move, couldn't speak. There was a heavy weight expanding inside of his chest and he felt couldn't even breathe. He wondered if maybe he was having a heart attack. He didn't think he was but whatever this new pain was it was all the more reason to ask for help, to get the doctor, of all people, there. But then he realized _that_ was the problem. The idea of asking for help had left him frozen. Mark had been in a committed relationship with anxiety for so long that it took him a while to realize he was having a panic attack.

He was angry at himself when he realized what was happening because it was so stupid. He could not be having a panic attack; not from _this_. But it was like his mind wouldn't work right, wouldn't obey his commands to just _cut this out_. He told himself, shouted inside his head, to just call for Beck. But nothing happened. It was like his mouth was no longer connected to his brain. It made no sense. He had never been the type of person who had trouble asking for help. If he needed help he would admit it. And he had learned to depend on his crew even more than anyone else. When you were on a mission in space together you had to learn how to depend on each other because your survival literally depended on it. Now, after he had been away from them for so long, he figured he would want to ask for help even more. But that wasn't what happened.

He'd remained there for a long time, too weak to stand and incapable of speaking. He was cold and shivering and had nearly air dried completely by the time that Beck had found him. Mark was grateful he'd come and relieved to finally get the help he'd been trying to ask for though he was embarrassed when Beck had asked him why he hadn't called.

Mark had been about to say something when Beck had reached out a hand to his shoulder and something horrible had happened. If he had thought he'd felt panic at the thought of asking for help it was nothing compared to what happened when Beck's hand had connected to his shoulder. It was like pain, actual pain, had ripped across his skin and he threw Beck's hand off him off like he'd been hit. Mark felt just as surprised as Beck looked by this strong reaction.

He'd apologized quickly and tried to shake off the disturbing reaction. He told Beck it was alright and to try again though Beck looked understandably hesitant and worried this time. As Beck reached out to him, Mark firmly told himself to be calm and rational and braced himself for the contact. But, despite all of this, his body once again reacted very strongly and negatively to Beck's touch. The feel of skin against skin was excruciating in a way that Mark didn't understand at all and he couldn't bear it. Against his will he pushed Beck's hand away a second time.

He was beyond frustrated at this point. What was happening to him? Was he actually going crazy? Beck must have sensed his distress because he spoke to him calmly, telling him it was alright and assuring him that this was natural. He told Mark to take all the time he needed and waited patiently beside him as Mark desperately tried to get his act together. Beck's compassion only made the whole thing worse. He shouldn't have to be so nice. After everything that everyone had done for him Mark wondered why he was responding in such a terrible way.

Guilt and embarrassment spread through his chest breaking the heavy weight that settled there and crushing it and him into a million pieces. When he thought that things at that moment couldn't possibly get any worse of course they did. He started crying, sobbing, right there in the shower. He could hardly even believe it. It was like he was beyond controlling himself at all anymore. He lost track of how much time passed while he cried pathetically and Beck sat silently beside him waiting patiently with him but unable to reach out to him.

Finally, when Mark was almost sure he would die from the embarrassment of himself the panic started to ebb away. It took a lot of encouragement from Beck and himself before Mark could finally let Beck touch him and help lift him up off the floor and lead him out. Even then it still hurt and Mark felt grateful when they'd reached the bed and Beck let go of him.

He'd been so happy to see Beck and he didn't understand the impulse in him that wanted him to go away. When Beck had floated into the MAV and Mark had first laid eyes on him, the very first person he'd seen in 18 months, he had to admit he'd fallen in love with him just a little bit. To be honest, Mark had thought he'd have to hold himself back from the whole crew. He thought he'd have to reign himself in to keep from clinging to everyone and spending every moment with someone now that he was finally, _finally_ , no longer alone. He hadn't planned on _this_ at all.

But Beck was a great doctor. A little _too_ good in Mark's opinion at the moment. He had known exactly what was going on. Apparently, Mark's reaction had been a manifestation of all kinds of emotional and psychological trauma he'd not even known he had. Being the good doctor that he was, Beck had wanted to address this as soon as possible so Mark got better instead of worse. He had started talking about skin hunger and touch therapy and Mark had laughed, actually laughed, at him. He thought Beck was making some kind of joke. When he realized Beck was serious he wasn't laughing anymore. Beck said he needed daily physical touch, that he needed it just as much as his medical treatment. Mark had then told him he was full of it and he was not about to force someone to touch him every day. Then Dr. Bossy Beck had said that one way or the other he was going to do it. It had not been one of their finer moments together.

Mark knew that Beck only had his very best in mind. While he also thought that Beck might have been reading a little too much into alternative medicine he knew that Beck would only suggest something that he really believed would help Mark. The truth was Mark was just humiliated. After they had both said some things they were not proud of Beck had, in a kinder tone, said that he felt Johanssen would be willing to help and he could ask her to do it if Mark was more comfortable receiving help from her than from him. Mark, in a kinder tone, had finally accepted.

Two days later he still felt a burn of embarrassment when he thought about what had happened. It was uncomfortably strong now that Johanssen was here. She had been more than willing to help but Mark still felt his body tense just in anticipation. He worried that what had happened with Beck would happen again with her. She was being so nice and pretending she didn't notice the fright in his eyes though he knew it had to be obvious there. After everything he'd been through, everything he'd survived and accomplished, he couldn't believe that he had been reduced to this.

Johanssen pulled up a chair and sat across from him. She was dressed in a sweatshirt, yoga pants and really big socks bunched up past her ankles. She looked comfortable and he thought, maybe, this wouldn't be so bad after all. He felt a little better and he smiled. He always had really liked Johanssen a lot. He told himself that he was glad she was there, no matter what his stupid body had to say about it. Still, this was a very awkward situation and he had no idea where to start. He decided to go for self-depreciating. Why not? It was what he did.

"I must really be in bad shape if I can't even make Beck jealous with his girlfriend alone in my bedroom," he said with a forced smile.

She tilted her head to study him but she was still smiling. "That doesn't have anything to do with you. He knows he can trust me."

He laughed but it was humorless. "O.K. Yeah, let's go with that." He was trying to be his normal funny self but he was finding it increasingly exhausting these days. Another new development he did not like at all. He felt like the pieces of himself were starting to get lost.

"You know he would come himself," she said softly.

This time he laughed for real. "Yeah, right."

"He's very good at cuddling. Trust me," she said with a snicker.

"Ew, stop it! Your opinion is completely biased and I do not need to think about why."

"Why not? It was _your_ idea."

"It was not! It was _Beck's_ idea I was just trying to get him to man up. Seriously, the amount of pining was embarrassing. And, I should point out, he's terrible at taking directions because I told him to _wait_ until you got back home before declaring his undying love for you."

Johanssen laughed. "Well, in case you didn't know, we had a big change in our schedule that pushed our arrival date back quite a bit."

"Really? I had no idea."

"I'm not mentioning whose fault it was or anything but he might be grateful."

"And he might not mention that it never would have been necessary if he hadn't been abandoned in the first place."

"Well, either way, I have to tell you, by the time your letter got here that ship had already sailed."

Mark cringed dramatically. "Stop it! I did not ask for all of these details!"

They both laughed genuinely and it felt good. It eased some of the tension. But, unfortunately, it couldn't chase very much of the heaviness away.

"He is worried about you, you know," she said quietly and seriously.

"I know. I didn't mean to worry him."

"I know. And he knows. He just wants to help."

"I just...I just can't," he said, having to look away. He knew that avoiding Beck wasn't the answer but he just couldn't face him yet. What had happened was so embarrassing and Mark just didn't feel like he had the strength to deal with it yet.

"Mark," Johanssen said softly, reaching out a hand and placing it on his shoulder. He hated that he felt an intense urge to push it away. At the same time, he also felt a strong desire to lean into her touch. As much as he wanted to push her hand off him he also wanted to lean forward and press more of himself against her. If he did would she wrap her arms around him? Wouldn't that feel good? It would feel _great_ and he could do it right now.

But there was fear to prevent him. Before, he wouldn't have even had to think about giving Johanssen a hug. Now, it was a whole _issue_ in his mind. Now, he worried that he would push her away or have another panic attack if he tried to hug her. Things had been so easy between them before. The whole crew had worked for years to successfully bond with each other. Now, it was like having to start all over. Actually, it was so much worse than starting over because he could remember her, could remember how things had been before Mars had screwed him up.

He glanced at her hand for a moment, fighting off both desires and determining to just stay still. When he was almost sure he wouldn't give in to either idea he looked back at her. He forced his face to turn towards hers though he couldn't quite meet her eyes without feeling overwhelmed.

"I know you're embarrassed about this," she whispered even though they were alone. "But don't be. Me and Chris are the only ones who know about this and we just want to help you feel better."

He was embarrassed that anyone had to know. Yes, it was better that at least the others didn't know how he'd freaked out but he still wished no one knew. He still wished it had never happened. He felt a lump in his throat and he only nodded his head for fear that his voice would give away what he was feeling.

"You have been through so much. It's obviously left its toll on your body. It wouldn't be reasonable to assume that it wouldn't leave a mark on the inside too, right?"

"I suppose," he admitted begrudgingly. But it made him feel weak, like he'd failed in some way. It felt like it went against everything he'd been taught about compartmentalizing his problems and feelings and pushing them where they couldn't get in the way of the mission. For all their statements to the contrary, NASA was _not_ supportive of emotional and mental problems in their astronauts. Admitting you had one could end a career in an instant and it was hard to forget all that conditioning.

"Right," she said positively. "So, Chris is going to be helping you with physical therapy to get your body back into working order and I'm just going to be helping you with a different kind of therapy for the other problems."

She did a good job of making it all sound like it was no big deal. Even though it was hard for him to accept her help he was incredibly grateful to her for it. "Right," he agreed with more feeling this time and forcing himself to smile. He was still getting used to this whole conversation with living humans thing again. He still had to remind himself that tone and body language mattered when someone was actually with you and could see and hear you.

"Good! So, do you have any requests? Is there anything in particular you would like us to do together?"

And _there_ were all the nerves again. This shouldn't make him feel like panicking but it did. He frantically tried to remember everything he'd wanted when he'd been stuck alone on Mars. What had he wanted most when he was upset? A hug? A hand to hold? A literal shoulder to lean on? He couldn't remember and it had been so long since he'd had the luxury of asking for it he didn't even know what he wanted anymore. Again, this should not cause such a dilemma in his mind but it did.

"And keep it clean mister; I'm taken," she teased, pointing a warning finger at him. He wasn't sure if she could see the war raging inside of him or not but he was grateful to her for teasing him and pulling him out of his thoughts. But her joke did make him laugh a little humorlessly. To think, he had been dreaming of sex when he'd been on Mars. Now, he knew he wouldn't even been capable of enduring it. What a discouraging thought.

With that sobering realization in his mind he deflated a little and decided to just be honest. That was probably for the best anyway. "I don't really know," he admitted with a shrug.

But she seemed to have anticipated this very answer. "Well, I had something in mind, if it sounds good to you." She held out a bottle of lotion she'd brought with her. "I thought maybe I could give you a back rub."

Now he laughed for real. "Did Beck tell you my back looks disgusting?" The bottle boasted that it had essential oils and aloe and all kinds of healing crap in it.

"No. I just figured that skin care probably wasn't high on your priority list."

That much was true. "My back _really_ does look bad though," he said seriously. He thought it was probably best to warn her about what she was getting into.

His skin was all dry and flaky and he had these weird lesions things from the malnutrition. Beck had assured him it wasn't contagious or anything but it made him look like a leper. Everybody was being nice, even Beck who had seen him in _all_ his hideous glory, but Mark knew the truth; he looked terrible. He knew why and they all knew why but he was still embarrassed of how he looked. Now Johanssen was going to see even more of that.

"Now I _know_ you're just fishing for complements and I'm not going to bite," she said grinning. "Do you want this or not? I'm mean, people pay good money for massages, you're not really going to turn down a free one are you?"

He loved her for joking with him. He was also glad for how it made him feel a bit like his old self and making him feel like maybe she wouldn't have to walk on egg shells around him all of the time. He had really missed her. "What am I an idiot?" he joked back.

"I don't know; you could have fooled me. Turn around," she motioned for him to turn his back to her as she stood up behind him.

"I apologize in advance if I freak out or start blubbering like an idiot. I don't want to but...it might happen," he couldn't help but rush to admit as a burst of nerves shot through him when he felt her getting closer. He was glad his back was turned so he didn't have to look at her while he talked about this. He knew Beck had already told her about what had happened and what could happen but he still felt he should say something about it.

She must have been able to detect the note of defeat and apparent worry in his voice despite his efforts to remove them. "I don't want you to worry about that," she said reassuringly. "I want you to do whatever you need to. And if anything hurts or becomes too much you let me know and we'll stop. Whenever you want it to be over it will be."

He didn't know what he was going to need to do and that was the truly terrifying thing. He was beginning to understand this problem wasn't going to go away on its own but he didn't know how much fire he was going to have to go through to get to the other side.

"I'm going to reach for your shirt and take it off, alright?" she warned.

"That's alright; I can do it," he said instantly on instinct. He reached at the bottom of his shirt and began to pull it off and was rewarded with a sharp stabbing on both sides from his very much broken ribs. Hissing in pain he let his arms fall to his sides again. He closed his eyes and bit his lip as he waited for the wave of pain to pass.

He felt a very light hand on his back and Johanssen leaned in close to his ear. "Just relax and let me do this for you. You've done so much work. You deserve to have someone take care of _you_ for once."

She was right. He _had_ done enough already! He'd done too much really. He did deserve this. He was so used to doing everything himself, of _having_ to do everything himself. It was going to be a hard habit to break but he wanted to do it. He wasn't going to let his own mind talk him out of it. He nodded his head slightly.

"May I?" she asked, as he felt her fingertips brush the hem of his shirt.

"Yes," he said closing his eyes and bracing himself.

He wasn't going to let himself fight her this time and it went much better that way. She very gently guided his arms out of the sleeves and then lifted the shirt over his head causing him hardly any pain at all. He shivered at the sudden cold on his bare chest and back. This ship seemed so freezing now that he was just skin and bones. He almost welcomed her hands on his back and the heat they brought along with them. Almost.

The fact that he was so cold and she was so warm did help him feel more open to this but he still felt his skin crawl under her touch. He held his breath and clenched his teeth as he fought the revulsion and need to reject her. _You like Johanssen. She's your friend_ , he coached himself. _She's practically a saint for being willing to touch your hideous back. Don't be a jerk to her._

"How are you doing?" she asked.

It took him a minute to answer. He felt sick, felt like crying because he was almost sure that he wasn't going to win this battle. He felt like the fear was going to win; he felt like he was going to give in to it and reject her.

It seemed impossible that he could because he felt so embarrassingly needy. He was so desperate to be held and touched and reassured. He'd never felt anything like it before. And yet, the thing he needed so much also repulsed him. The contact he wanted, needed, had to have, hurt him and it made absolutely no sense at all. He spent the past 18 months guided entirely by reason and facts and things that made sense. His very survival depended on him making sure he found out the correct answer to every problem. But this? This was entirely grey area and unknown. Mark didn't know how to navigate that.

"Just give me a minute," he begged. He was so tight inside with anxiety he felt like he was going to snap but he wanted to fight it.

"Of course. Take your time," she said so sweetly, so kind and patient. Her hands remained on his back but didn't move yet.

 _Don't do this to her. Don't you dare hurt her._ You _are in control. I am in control. I am in control. I am in control_ , he shouted to himself, louder each time.

Only he didn't feel like he was in control. He thought about what had happened between him and Beck. He hadn't been in control then. He'd done the very thing he hadn't wanted to do. He had rejected what he had wanted so much.

Then he remembered the look on Beck's face. He remembered the worry. He remembered the pain he saw in Beck's eyes, not because Mark had hurt him but because seeing Mark hurting, hurt him. He hadn't meant to hurt Beck or make him worry but he had. He'd messed things up with Beck and now he didn't know how to fix them. He couldn't do the same to Johanssen.

"Go ahead," he told her, before he could change his mind.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, please," he said tightly. He bit his tongue so unwanted words couldn't escape. He _had_ to do this. There was no way around it. If he avoided being close with others this would only get worse. It would only get better if he allowed them in. He just had to get through this; that was all there was to it.

Johanssen slowly started to rub the lotion across his back. He would like to say he enjoyed it but he didn't really. It wasn't that it hurt or felt bad exactly but it didn't feel good either. But he wasn't fighting it and that was something. It was a big step up from where he had been and he tried to console himself with that thought. Just two days ago he almost hadn't been able to let Beck put his arms around him and help him. This was progress and progress was something he understood, something he could appreciate it.

She was being very careful and attentive. She steered far away from his ribs and she was gentle as she rubbed the lotion into his fragile skin. The lotion smelled good, natural and clean and he felt certain it would do his back and shoulders a world of good. Even still, he was counting the moments until it would all be over. He wished it wasn't true but it was and it did no good to try and deny it to himself.

After a while she moved her hands to his shoulders and squeezed slightly to give him a light massage but he instantly tensed and his shoulders shot up.

"Do you want me to stop?" she asked.

It hurt but he was pleasantly surprised to realize that this was a physical pain and not some weird psychological one. "No, not entirely. Just, I think we can't do a massage. My muscles, what left of them anyways, are just too sore." That was true. He felt like he'd come down with arthritis since he'd gotten back with all of his bones aching and his muscles constantly sore. He knew this would all pass eventually but for today it was just too painful.

"Alright. Thanks for letting me know," she said before continuing to move her hands gently across his shoulders and back without squeezing or pressing.

Time passed and it became somewhat easier. His breathing became slow and steady instead of being stuck in his chest and he even relaxed enough that he wasn't clenching anything anymore. After a while he felt as one of her hands moved to the back of his neck and gently stroked it. He let out a long sigh that eventually turned into a moan and then blushed in embarrassment at the sound of it. Johanssen's hand instantly stilled.

"Sorry," he said, feeling the heat of blush spreading across his exposed skin.

"Are you alright? Was that too hard?" she asked worried.

"Yes. No. I mean, yes, I'm alright. And no, that wasn't painful."

"Are you sure? I don't want to do anything that will hurt you."

"No, you didn't. That actually felt really good."

It _had_ felt good. Though he was embarrassed of the sound he had made it was actually proof that he had felt that elusive thing he had been seeking since he'd arrived on board the Hermes: relaxation. For a moment there, he hadn't been thinking at all, he just fell back in to the touch and allowed himself to enjoy it. It had been good to have a free mind, not burdened by all the heavy thoughts and feelings he'd brought back from Mars' surface.

"Please...please continue?" he asked.

"Alright," she agreed. "But let me know if anything changes."

She placed one hand on his shoulder to steady him and the other around the back of his neck again. He closed his eyes and decided to chance giving himself over to the experience. He didn't know how long this good feeling would last and he tried to savor it while he had it. This gave him hope that maybe he could get better; maybe these strange things that were happening to him wouldn't be permanent. Maybe Beck was right; maybe with enough time and patience he could overcome this.

Mark's neck wasn't quite as sensitive as his back so Johanssen was even able to gently massage it. She was careful not to do it hard but he could still feel the tension being relieved. He hadn't realized how much of it he was still physically carrying. It made him wish that the rest of his body wasn't so sensitive so that she could have done this all over. She started to hum very quietly, some song his disco polluted mind didn't recognize but it was really nice. As time passed he felt himself leaning more and more into her hands.

"You sure are looking shaggy," she commented quietly after a while. "Apparently, hair care wasn't high on your priority list either." Her hand kept brushing the longer than normal hair along the nape of his neck.

"Hey, you should have seen it before. You're lucky it looks this good."

"Yes, well, at least now it's clean. You were rank!" she laughed.

They were joking, lightly, but this was where Mark was silenced. Johanssen ran one of her hands into his abundant locks and it stole his breath away but not in pleasant way. His scalp tingled fiercely along every inch that her fingers touched. He knew she was being gentle but it was like his body didn't know that. It felt like torture.

"I could cut it for you if you want."

She didn't notice the distress he was in, which was understandable since his back was turned to her. He was frozen in place as her fingers played in his hair. He couldn't breathe and fear gripped at his heart as he realized it was happening again. This was the same terrible thing that had happened when Beck had touched him. It wasn't as sudden as it had been then but he could feel it building up to that same terrible end. This should feel good but for whatever reason it was just too much.

He didn't want this. It was terrible to not be in command of himself. He didn't want to freak out again. He didn't want to cry in front of Johanssen. He needed to speak up, to get her to stop but for a few long moments he couldn't speak. His senses were completely overstimulated and smothering him.

"Please," he finally managed to sputter out at last. "Stop...I need you to stop." It was better than throwing her off as he had done with Beck, so he assumed that was progress but it still felt like defeat.

Her hand stopped at once and she pulled both of them away from him. "I'm sorry...I don't understand it," he apologized. He thought he would feel better right away but he didn't. Inexplicable tears were now tugging at his eyes and a sense of shame made him feel the need to explain himself.

"You don't have anything to be sorry about," she said quietly and reassuringly. She was being too nice. "That was very good. You did well today."

She pushed his shirt towards him and he took it to put it on by himself. It took him twice as long to put it back on and hurt much worse as he struggled into it on his own this time his broken ribs crying out in pain. He knew she was letting him do it himself because he'd asked her to stop and there was no reason for the aloneness he felt at having to do this task on his own. She would gladly help him if he asked but he wouldn't. He wanted to but he couldn't. He wanted her to comfort him and yet that was the very problem itself. He felt torn in two inside, a war going on between rival desires, making him feel like it was impossible for him to win. She was here but it was like there was an unwanted veil between them keeping them apart.

Thanks to Mars he was now screwed up inside and turning into a full blown head case! He wasn't used to having emotions he couldn't control and didn't understand. He was supposed to have been done with Mars and its influence over him the second he'd flown away. But it seemed it wouldn't be that easy. It was discouraging to think about. He was glad his back was turned because it was hard to overcome the tears that wanted to come and push them back inside. He had been unable to stop them when he'd been with Beck but this time he would put them in their place.

He was feeling sad and empty, once again, but he didn't know why. He should feel better. Johanssen had spent some time with him (which he desperately wanted) and she'd rubbed lotion on his back (which had been really nice). And she wasn't mad or insulted that he had asked her to stop. But he couldn't deny that he was feeling both ashamed and depressed as he turned back around and faced her.

But she was smiling back at him like everything was great. She held out a tablet that he hadn't realized she brought along with her. "Read Poirot to me," she said.

"What?"

"You said you read my Agatha Christie books."

"Yeah? So?" he asked still very confused by the sudden change in topic.

"So, silly," she said shaking her head at him. "Read some to me. You know you want to," she said wagging her eyebrows at him.

Mark felt relief flood him. He had thought she'd be leaving after he asked her to stop touching him. After all, getting him over his physical touch problem was the whole point of this, right? Now that he knew she was going to be staying for a while longer he realized he really hadn't wanted her to leave.

He knew she was probably just asking him to read as for a distraction but he didn't care. "If that's your version of a pick-up line, no wonder Beck isn't worried," he said smiling.

She glared at him and looked like she wanted to hit him. They'd always been that way, play fighting like brother and sister. But this time she looked like she thought about it and decided against it. That was a form of touching after all. Her pause was brief and barely even perceptible but he noticed and felt guilty about it. He hated these new limitations he'd brought into their relationship.

He took the tablet from her before he could dwell on that too much and get sad again. She bounced down on the bed and sat beside him though she left a sizable amount of distance between them. She looked at him eagerly until he started reading.

It felt forced at first, unnatural. But after a while he got caught up in the words and story and he relaxed. He enjoyed reading the story to her and hearing her occasional commentary on what was going on. This was at least something _good_ that was new between. He hadn't been a fan of Agatha Christie's books before his time on Mars and now he was. Now, it was something they could share. That small consolation gave him more hope for the future than he was comfortable admitting.

He was feeling so good, in fact, that a long while later when he felt Johanssen lean her head to rest on his shoulder, he didn't fight it. He knew that he tensed a bit but he forced himself to focus on the words and keep reading. And after a moment with his mind focused on the story he felt his body relax again and actually accept the warmth of the body slightly pressing against his.

* * *

 **Mission Day 690**

The next day Mark was feeling much better about his arrangement with Johanssen. He had to admit that it hadn't been nearly as uncomfortable and awkward as he imagined it would be when Beck had first told him about it. It had been a little embarrassing and they had run into a snag at the end but, overall, he felt it went pretty well and it had ended on a positive note. Mark felt he had even made some progress thanks to her help. She had done her best to make the experience feel as natural and comfortable as possible and earlier today she'd even smiled at him knowingly across the table at lunch like they shared sort of dirty little secret instead of them both knowing he had embarrassing problem he was dealing with.

He found that he was even looking forward to their time together a little bit. He just wasn't sure he was still going to be awake by the time she arrived. He had to wait until Johanssen's free time since she, like the rest of the crew, still had their normal work schedules not to mention a portion of his as well. He had tried to get them to let him contribute something especially with the recent damage to the ship but Beck had vetoed that so fast Mark didn't even try to argue. He hadn't meant anything strenuous but Beck had told him in a very firm tone that recovering was his job, his _only_ job, for now and probably for most of foreseeable future.

As he lay on his bed waiting for Johanssen, he had to admit that Beck probably had a point. Now that he'd been on the Hermes for three days his body seemed to have finally gotten the memo that it was no longer in constant mortal peril and that knowledge was catching up with him in a big way. Gone was the near constant supply of adrenaline that had kept him working despite little food, poor sleep and constant aches and pains. His body now realized it could focus all his energy on repairing itself and it was enthusiastic about doing just that. He was tired all the time and the significant amount of pain meds he was on added to his fatigue.

Having forgotten what it was to eat real food, his stomach ached after every meal and he passed out almost immediately every time he ate. He had just had dinner not that long ago and he really wasn't feeling that great at all. He was on the edge of sleep when he finally heard knocking on his door.

He forced his eyelids open and cleared his throat. "Come in," he called out. He struggled to sit up as fast as he could but it was not an easy task. He wrapped an arm around his middle to try to help lessen the stabbing he felt in his ribs every time he moved and the aching in his stomach.

Johanssen came in,looking again like this was the highlight of her day. But she stopped and a small amount of concern passed over her face when she saw him struggling. He smiled at her in the hopes he could look less the part of the invalid he was becoming.

"Are you alright? Is it your ribs?" she asked.

He left his arm wrapped around himself and panted hard trying to catch his breath feeling this was truly pathetic. "Yes. Also dinner."

"Dinner?" she asked, looking confused.

"Yeah. My stomach is all 'What is this? Actual food? I don't remember what to do with this stuff.'"

Johanssen laughed and Mark smiled but he had learned by now not to laugh. He'd already found out the hard way that laughing made all the pain worse. Apparently, laughter was not always the best medicine.

"Well, don't get up," she said quickly coming to sit on the bed next to him.

He hadn't been planning on it. "I've got to be straight with you; I'm _exhausted_. I'm not sure how much I'm going to be good for right now," he admitted.

Johanssen nodded understandably seeming not at all surprised by this. "Alright, so we won't be reading Poirot today." She tossed her tablet aside. "You want to listen to some music instead?"

That actually sounded really good and he felt strangely calmed by her quick back-up plan. It felt incredibly good to have someone else coming up with a plan even a small one like this for once. His brain was so foggy right now and he didn't want to think and he finally didn't have to. Someone else was in control and he liked that a lot. "Sure. As long as it wasn't made in the 70's," he joked.

She laughed. "Alright. I think I can manage that."

She got up and went over to his laptop and opened it in search of his music library. It was only her second day here and she was already walking around his room like she owned the place. It seemed she was completely comfortable here and he really liked that too. She started his music to play softly in the background and it sounded strangely foreign to him after having been indoctrinated with disco for the past year and a half. He had nearly forgotten what music he even owned.

Johanssen walked back to the bed and climbed up on it. She scooted until her back was up against the wall and her legs were spread out in front of her. When he looked at her she smiled and patted her lap with a hand indicating he should come over. He felt that dual rush of excitement and uncertainty. Even though he had been looking forward to spending time with her now that she was here and ready he felt that same nervousness he'd felt yesterday start to return.

He looked away from her, feeling awkward just to have her staring at him. As much as he had missed people it was going to take him some time to feel genuinely used to being around them again. It felt strange to be near actual people that could see him and hear him. The most human contact he'd had in his 18 months on Mars was conversation via chat on a computer screen and that was no substitute for human interaction. Even he was unaware of how much impact that isolation had had on his behavior until he was around them again and became painfully aware of how lacking his social skills had become.

He didn't want to hesitate but he did. She noticed, of course, and was supportive as ever, "Come on," she encouraged in a calm tone. "You can even fall asleep if you want."

So many times he had longed to have someone comfort him when he was on Mars. It had been _so_ lonely. But he'd had to deny himself such desires and learn to survive on his own. He'd done that for so long he felt like it had broken something inside of him that made him know how to depend on others. He didn't want this to be a whole issue but there it was. Again.

She seemed so genuinely eager to be there and Mark was annoyed at the anxiety now flowing through his body. It was ridiculous to be worried. He had just been looking forward to her being here and obviously she was happy to do it. There was no sensible reason to feel uneasy and he had faced so many actually terrifying things that he was embarrassed of himself for being afraid now.

There was just something about this that made him feel exposed. Suddenly, this all felt very intimate. He knew it wouldn't feel that way to anyone else but he hadn't been this close to someone in a long time. He had gotten out of practice with just the simple act of being seen by another person's eyes. And this wasn't just someone seeing him. Johanssen had already seen a little more of what was going on with him than he wanted and she could possibly see even more today. He ached to be touched but he feared its potentially bringing out more of the emotional crap he knew he was carrying around.

 _Just keep your act together,_ he ordered himself. He would be fine. They would get through today just like they'd gotten through yesterday. It may be a little awkward or embarrassing but it didn't need to get ugly. Nothing bad needed to happen as long as he didn't lose his mind. He did not need to get all _emotional_. This was about helping him remember how to be social like a human being again; he did not need to complicate it with a bunch of feelings. There was no reason for him to make this all into more than it actually was.

 _This is absolutely no big deal. It's not a big deal to her. It wouldn't be a big deal to anyone else. It only feels that way because you forgot how to act around people. Stop being ridiculous!_

He forced his mind to focus on the words of the song that was currently playing. He used it as a distraction to try to trick his mind as he very slowly moved over next to Johanssen and lay down so that his head rested in her lap. He instantly felt the impulse to run and he fought it strongly. His whole body went rigid with tension, his hands were clenched in fists and he had to close his eyes as he struggled. He knew she saw it because she didn't lay her hands on him while he worked to overcome his feelings. It was a couple of terrible minutes before he was sure he would be able to get past it and he was relieved when his body finally relaxed. He felt even more exhausted.

This is what he'd wanted, what he'd even daydreamed about being able to have again. He forced himself to think of some of those painfully lonely moments in the Hab to remind himself of how much he had wanted this and to make him grateful now that he had it. _This is nice_ , he told himself. He said it over and over again and after a few more minutes he almost believed it.

Then he felt her place one hand on his arm and another on his head. Instant pinpricks covered his whole body. No, no, he didn't want to do this, didn't want to start this all over again. Why did his body have to have a fight-or-flight response to just being touched? It was nonsense and yet he was powerless to stop it. The whole cycle started again.

Johanssen was so attentive. She seemed to understand everything that was going on even though he didn't talk about it. And she was so patient to take this all at the snail's pace he was setting.

"How are you doing?" she asked, quietly after a few minutes had pasted and he had managed to calm down again.

He took a deep shaky breath and let it out. "I'm alright."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Good," she said, encouragingly. "You'll tell me if that changes, right?"

"Yeah," he said. Even though he had to admit he wasn't sure he would or not. Everything just felt so hard to do these days and he was unpredictable, even to himself.

She started to rub his arm slowly with one hand as she ran her other gently through his hair. It was almost like she was picking up where they had gotten tripped up yesterday. He wondered if this was unconsciously done or if she had formed a plan of attack for these sessions together. Either way, she was good at what she was doing. The quiet music and the feel of his head resting in her lap and her hand on his arm was enough to pull his mind away from the gesture that had been too much for him yesterday; it was no longer overwhelming.

After a while it was even good. It was actually _really_ good if he let himself get into it. He enjoyed hearing his own music again and he closed his eyes as he listened to it. He felt that this was the most relaxed he'd been since they had left this ship for Mars' surface on Sol 1. He was at such peace as he realized he didn't have one worry or concern on his mind. He'd been so weighed down with worry for long; he hadn't really realized how heavy it had all become on him. Of course, he had known he was stressed but even he hadn't known to what extent until this moment when it all lifted.

So, this was what relaxing felt like. He had truly forgotten. Even when he'd been 'relaxing' in the Hab watching sitcoms or reading books it really hadn't felt like relaxing. It felt much more like waiting. It was always like he was just waiting for the next thing to go wrong or the next problem he would be forced to solve. He couldn't ever really rest because disaster was always just around the next corner and he always needed to be ready for it.

But he didn't have to worry now and that was so good. He was finally comfortable. Even yesterday he'd been so focused on not freaking out that he hadn't been able to unwind this much. His senses had been so overloaded but now he chose to give into them to enjoy everything he was feeling. He appreciated the soft bed under him and the comfy sweats wrapped around his poor battered body. Even Johanssen felt good by now. She was felt pleasantly warm against his frail body and she smelled really good. He'd taken for granted how nice it was just to be around another human being that was not him. He wasn't alone anymore; she was here. And she was just being with him, wanting to take care of him. He was a lucky man.

"It's so good to be back," he whispered, a smile on his face. He wasn't sure if he'd actually said this out loud before now or not. He'd thought it, dozens of times. But it was taking him a little time to remember to actually say things out loud again, now that there were people around to hear them.

Johanssen squeezed his arm and leaned down to hug him as much as she could from her position. "It's good to have you back."

He'd meant it and felt good about saying it so he wasn't sure why he felt something heavy stirring up inside of him. It was like after he'd said it something turned wrong and it puzzled him.

 _You're fine. You're fine. Everything is fine. There's nothing wrong here,_ he told himself trying to shake it. It felt like panic but it wasn't because of Johanssen's touch this time. It felt like something was wrong but he didn't know what. There really wasn't anything that could be wrong. Physically he was fine. A little sickly and banged up but nothing that time wouldn't take care of. The ship was fine. The crew was fine. He had more than enough food. He was in no danger of starvation or explosion or any of the hundreds of others fatal things he's faced on Mars. So, then why did he feel so much like things were completely not alright at all?

He really should have been expecting something like this to happen because it was all going just a little too good. This figured. Why was it always _something_? Couldn't everything just be fine for a second? Apparently not. He had gotten off Mars and left all those problems behind. Then his mind screwed him with the touch thing. Now, now when it seemed he might be making progress on _that_ something new was brewing to take its place. It really was very typical.

He thought about saying something to Johanssen but then he couldn't decide what. His head was spinning. His mind, which had been so free just a moment ago, was suddenly buzzing with hundreds of thoughts so fast and frantic he couldn't focus on one of them. He felt so devastatingly sad but he didn't know why. He couldn't find the right words to voice any of this let alone be able to explain it to her if she asked. Why was this happening when he'd just started to feel so good and relaxed? His brain almost hurt now with the overload of information and relaxed felt a million miles away.

 _Don't do this. Don't be this. Whatever this is just stop it!_

He started to cry. _Great!_ Just like with Beck the tears came without asking and without offering an explanation. He didn't understand the silent tears that ran down his face. Were they tears of relief, knowing that it had had all worked out and that he was finally safe? Were they tears of happiness at being united with his crew and no longer being all alone? Maybe they were leftover tears of fear and sadness that he'd felt during his long ordeal. If they were the later then they could certainly stop; all of that was over now and he didn't need to dwell on it anymore.

Yes, things had been very very bad but that was all in the past and he didn't need to waste time whining over it now. What would be the point of that? What good would that do anyone now? Crying and moaning over his situation now wouldn't change how things had been for him in the past and seeing it would only make his crew feel worse about leaving him behind. He was moving on and things were good. He wasn't alone.

But he had been so alone. Completely alone for 543 Sols. Most of the time that he'd been on Mars he had been able to fool himself into thinking it wasn't all that bad. He'd been so busy he'd hardly had time for existential thinking. And whenever it did come a knocking on his mind he used humor to lessen its effects. He wouldn't let himself really think about how things were. But he had lots of time now and not much else to focus on. With his mind free and unburdened there was room for this and now he could see everything as it truly had been.

He felt a storm of dark emotions were just on the surface, slowly approaching to come and consume him. Loneliness, despair, hopeless, fear and sadness, all the things he wouldn't feel then, were raining down on him now. There was something miserable inside of him threatening to take him hostage. All the bad was threatening to come up, to spew out of him like emotional vomit. He was trying to repress it but it wasn't going to work. If they continued this way it was going to come out. He didn't want Johanssen to see that. He didn't want anyone to know what this ordeal had done to him. He didn't want to know himself. He had to stop it.

He sat up quickly and moved to the side of the bed swinging his legs over the side. He felt bad about pulling away from her so suddenly but he had to get away quickly. He propped his elbows on his knees and buried his head in his hands trying to hide his tears.

"What's wrong?" Johanssen asked. He could hear she hadn't moved from her spot; she was giving him space. He could also hear the fear and concern for him in her voice and her care was having the same effect on him as her touch had; it was dragging all these horrible feelings out him.

"Stop it," he begged.

"Talk to me. Tell me how you're feeling. What happened?"

"Stop it," he said again and it sounded like a moan, terrible and injured. He gasped for air and then it turned into a sob. It was done; there was no going back now. He broke, dissolving into terrible sobs that shook his whole body. Astronauts weren't supposed to be afraid or depressed and he didn't want to admit being either. He didn't want to be broken, didn't want his experience to have had that much effect on him. He wanted to be the same man his crew remembered. He wanted to be strong, to be brave for them. They were counting on him. The _entire world_ was counting on him. He couldn't let everyone get damaged goods for all their efforts.

Johanssen silently moved to kneel on the ground in front of him. She didn't touch him and he knew she was waiting for him to speak and give her an idea of what was going on. Part of him wished she wouldn't look at him right now while he was like this. Part of him was so glad she refused to shy away. She was being so patient, waiting on him to go through his whole emotional disaster. Bless her. He'd liked her before but he had never known how remarkable she really was. Someone like her didn't deserve this, this mess, this complete wreck of a person he had become.

"I'm sorry," he gasped between cries, trying to get air. The pain in his ribs was so bad he couldn't draw in a deep enough breath he needed to control the sobs. Part of him was desperate to reach out to her in some way since the hope of him being able to control himself was gone. Still, the fear that it could become even worse made him hesitate.

She scooted in closer, placing her hands on either side of the bed next to him so that she was near but still not touching him. "I don't understand, Mark. You're sorry for what? What are apologizing for?" she asked quietly.

He felt so glad she was close but he left his face in his hands so he wouldn't have to look up at her while he spoke. "I'm sorry you have to do this...that you have to put up with this. With me, like this."

Surprising even himself his sobs gained new strength at his own confession. He felt even more pathetic and guilty. She shouldn't have to be forced to spend time with him and touch him. She shouldn't have to put up with all his problems, problems he shouldn't even have in the first place. The whole crew had done so much, risked so much, sacrificed so much to get him off of Mars. Their work should be done now. He should be happy and everything should be getting back to normal. What reason to did he have now for coming undone like this?

"Can I give you a hug?" she asked before saying anything else.

The request hit his heart in a peculiar way. It was so simple and straight forward and yet so personal. He nodded his head and he felt her arms envelope his still hunched over form and hold him tight. She squeezed him for a moment before she leaned her head in close to his. "Mark," she whispered and he could hear the disbelief in her voice. "Have to? _Have_ to? I don't have to do anything."

"But Beck-" he started to argue but she was quick to cut him off.

"Yes, Chris asked me to spend time with you and try to help make it easier on you to be around people. But I was so _glad_ to do it. Mark, the whole world wants a piece of you and I get all to myself? How lucky am I?"

Well, _that_ sure didn't help him stop crying. How could she possibly say that right now when she could so clearly see how much of mess he really was? Here he was in the midst of biggest ugliest sob fest he'd had in his entire life and she was still acting like _she_ was the privileged one? How could that be?

He pulled back wanting to look at her. She released him and rested her hands on his knees. He wiped his hands across his face even though the tears were still flowing. "I'm sorry I'm acting this way."

"What? You mean for being upset?"

He nodded, trying to catch his breath while his chest was on fire.

"You have every right to be upset."

"No, I don't. Nothing is wrong right now."

"But things _were_ wrong."

He felt a new wave of pain at hearing her vocalize the truth. "Yes, but it's in the past now. I wanted to put it all behind me."

"You will," she said positively. "But that's going to take some time."

"I don't want it to take time."

"I don't blame you. But you didn't really think it would all just be over the second you left?"

He had, actually. Well, he really _hoped_ it would anyway. The fact that she seemed to think that idea was irrational made him feel a little bit better about how he was feeling but he still couldn't seem to agree with her.

"It wasn't supposed to be this way," he whispered. He felt the need to explain. He wanted desperately for her to know this wasn't something he was choosing to do or indulging himself in.

"It wasn't supposed to be what way?"

"I wasn't supposed to feel like this. I should be happy. I mean...I got rescued. I'm not on Mars. You guys are all here and things are good. _So_ good. I should be ecstatic all the time. I shouldn't feel all messed up inside."

She started to calmly rub one of his knees with her hand. "I'm sure this all feels very confusing for you. And I know this is going to sound patronizing and stupid but, given everything you've experienced, this is a normal response."

"It isn't. I'm losing myself!" he cried desperately.

"This isn't a surprise to me," she said calmly.

"What do you mean?"

"The NASA psychologists spoke with Chris before we picked you up and they explained to him, and he explained to me, the things you would likely be going through."

"So...you knew this would happen?"

"I knew it was a likely possibility and I _still_ wanted to spend time with you," she said smiling at him. "I went into this fully informed. So, you really don't need to feel embarrassed for not being alright. This is what I'm here for."

Her words just kept cutting into him, making him more and more raw inside and making him want to cry even more.

The NASA shrinks had warned him too. They'd been on his back the second he'd gotten on the ship. He had opened exactly one email from them before he realized that was a mistake he wouldn't be repeating. It was full of badgering questions about his current thoughts and feelings and warning him in startlingly detail about depression and anxiety and PTSD. He'd flat out refused to believe any of it applied to him. And then, when he'd started to feel some of those warnings signs, he'd denied it was happening, tried to shove it back down instead. He didn't want to be weak or damaged. Mars had gotten enough from him already; he didn't want to give it anymore of him.

"I don't want it to be this way."

"I know you don't," she reassured, reaching out a hand to his cheek and he closed his eyes and leaned into it.

"I don't want it to be hard to be around you guys. I missed you all _so_ much. I don't want to feel two things at once; two things that rip me apart and make it impossible for me to feel happy. I don't even understand half of what I'm feeling. I want to be happy again and making jokes without an effort."

"You will, just not right now."

"But I should be alright right now."

"You are being way too hard on yourself. You went through a truly traumatic experience. You've endured something no one else ever has and you've handled it so well. You are _so_ strong."

He closed his eyes and shook his head. He wasn't, he really, really wasn't.

She stroked his face with her hand. "Yes, you are. You are so brave. You did so much. You reached your goal and you did it all on your own," she said in awe. "But you don't have to do the rest on you own," she added in a whisper.

He felt her move her other hand up to his face. "I know that Chris kind of forced this all on you. I know he didn't really give you an option about deciding whether or not you wanted to do this with me. But you do have to let me in to help. That decision is up to you. I want to help you in every way I can. I want you to feel comfortable to be completely honest with me. Will you please let me help you?"

He wanted to be able to handle it all on his own. As much as he wanted to be around others again he still didn't really feel like he wanted to ask for anyone's help. He'd been handling everything on his own for so long and it was going to be a hard habit to break. He didn't want anything to have the power to defeat him. But he knew that even though he had left Mars, Mars hadn't left him. He didn't want it to still be able to destroy him but he knew it could, knew it _would_ him if he didn't change things. He could already imagine the ways in which it could ruin him in the future if he let it. He didn't like to think of the man he could become.

He was suddenly filled with a new ferocity. He had escaped Mars! He would not let it win now. He reached out and hugged Johanssen tight, initiating contact for the first time since he'd gotten back. He was probably crushing her tiny body but he was desperate to banish this darkness and he needed her for that. If he was hurting her she didn't show it but reciprocated tightly in response.

He opened his mouth to speak and surprisingly, saying this was possibly one of the hardest things out of every crazy thing that he'd had to do. "Help me. Please, help me," he cried. It sounded embarrassingly desperate but he had managed to say it. It had to be done and he'd done it.

Her hold on him tightened all the more. "Of course. Of course!" she cried. "Anything."

Mark wasn't alright and that O.K. to admit. When he had been on Mars his own strength was the only thing that could help him survive. If he had allowed himself to focus on everything he felt and thought he would have never made it off that planet. The weight of his situation would have been too much for him to bear and he would have been too discouraged to go on. So, he had pressed on focusing on his work and humor to get him through.

But all that stuff he'd pressed down was still inside him, waiting. He had to deal with it now. It still felt like more than he could cope with. Maybe it _was_ more than he could handle. But he didn't have to handle it all on his own. He wasn't alright but maybe with a lot help he would be again.

* * *

 **Mission Day 696**

Mark knew by now how much he needed help but it continued to be a struggle for him to allow himself to accept it. He had to keep reminding himself to let everyone back into his life. With the rest of the crew he could still maintain a bit of distance but with Johanssen it was different. He had promised to be honest with her and he knew he had to open up to her completely. It was what he wanted too but that didn't mean it was always easy to do.

It had been a week now since they had started their so-called "cuddle sessions" (her name not his) and allowing the physical contact was getting easier and easier for Mark to handle. It was a relief to no longer have to think about every single touch and fear he might become overwhelmed by it. He was glad he could now appreciate the attention more without his body instantly rebelling against it. With most of the anxiety the touch problem had caused gone he could now enjoy their times together and he began to look forward to them each day.

But being honest about what he was feeling each day was more difficult. It wasn't that he wanted to keep things from her he had just gotten completely out of the habit of sharing his emotions with another person. He had no doubts about her trustworthiness he just had to keep reminding himself that she was there. After being alone for so long it was hard for his brain to truly comprehend that he wasn't alone anymore and that he could ask for help. Even with people obviously around him, he still honestly forgot sometimes. It felt like a radical new idea to him that if something was bothering him he could actually share it was someone else.

That was why what happened today was a real sign of progress. Until this point he had been doing good just to accept the help Johanssen offered. But for the first time since he'd gotten back he sought her out and asked for her help. Of course, they had plans already to spend time together but that was later and Mark wasn't sure he could wait.

He had just finished watching a video message from his mom. They were much too far away from Earth for face-to-face conversations to be possible. Even sending videos were difficult this deep in space. He knew it must have taken up most of the day's data dump but he was selfishly glad that NASA felt they owed him this; he had become desperate to hear from her. He had spoken to his parents many times through email since his rescue and even back on Mars but this was the first time he'd heard his mother's voice and seen her face, since he'd left the Hermes for Mars' surface.

It wasn't until he saw her that he felt how truly long it had been. He really had been away forever just like she had said. His dad had been there too but it was his mom who had done most of the talking. She had cried most of the time and he'd tried his best not to but she had that maternal knack for striking his heart in all the right places with the perfect words. She kept telling him that they were all _happy_ tears; of course, they were. But he could see how worried she had been because of how relieved she was now. She said a lot of the same things that she already had in her emails; how thankful they were that he was safe, how proud they were of him, telling him about all the celebrations that had taken place on Earth the day he was rescued, and how they were counting down the days until he was home again. But everything came through on a video in a way it never could through an email. Getting to hear her voice and watch her expressions as she said it all added so much more to everything she said.

It was a very emotional event. When he had watched the video three times he made himself stop for the meantime. He was allowed to record a message to send back but right now he felt drained. He also felt incredibly sad. He should feel better for having seen his mom but it had only made him realize how terribly he missed her. He was _so_ homesick and it clenched around his heart like a vice. Strangely, he hadn't felt homesick very often when he'd been on Mars. It wasn't that he hadn't missed home with its creature comforts and his loved ones; he had very much. It was just that survival, anywhere, anyhow seemed to be the best he could hope for. His goal had been to survive and make it back on to the Hermes. He really hadn't thought much past that because deep down getting that far had felt impossible. Now that he had done that he could think onward and that meant thinking about home. As he did he felt so alone he felt like crying.

But then he remembered. He wasn't alone. He didn't have to do this on his own. He stood up and headed for the door but then stopped and deliberated for a few minutes. He felt strange considering asking for help with this. He wondered if he was making too big a deal out of this but Johanssen had said that he could talk to her about anything. It was still so difficult to ask for help but it really would be nice to have her here right now. He wanted to talk to her and he did need to get more used to asking for help.

He finally decided to go for it and went looking for her. He eventually found her in the lab working on something with Vogel. She was looking over Vogel's shoulder discussing something on the screen of his computer. Mark felt nervous again once he saw her and just stood in the doorway watching them for a few minutes. They were so focused on their work he escaped their notice for a while but eventually she looked up and spotted him. He felt embarrassed that he had been caught watching them but she smiled at him and didn't seem to be bothered by his creeping around in the doorway. She always looked so glad to see him; it was great.

He waved his hand towards himself letting her know he wanted to talk to her privately. She studied him for a second and must have seen that he was upset. Her face turned serious and she held up a finger telling him to give her just a minute to finish up. He retreated around the doorway and waited with his back against wall of the hall as she finished what she was doing. As he waited doubts swirled in his mind. He shouldn't interrupt her while she was working just because he felt like being a cry baby. He should have just waited until later when she had free time, during their regular time together. But it had already been done and he knew she wouldn't let him off the hook even if he left right now. That was probably good; he needed that.

A few minutes later she came out and joined him. "What's up?" she asked, placing a hand on his arm as she spoke. It wasn't a problem anymore and he needed all the physical touch he could get. They both also knew that it helped to coax out those stubborn feelings.

"You're busy; I shouldn't have bothered you," he said, crossing his arms and shaking his head. This had been a bad idea and he felt weird now.

She started to rub his arm in a most pleasantly distracting way. "You never bother me," she said, quietly with a smile. "What's wrong?"

"Can I talk to you?" he asked, his voice already shaking. Tears, more tears were on the way. Would he _ever_ stop crying? It took hardly anything these days to bring on the waterworks.

"Of course you can," she said, a look of concern on her face as she stepped even closer to him. "What happened?"

Her eyes were completely focused on him. Her attention was his for the taking. She was here with him 100%. "I, uh...I just...I just watched a video message from my mom."

It sounded even _worse_ when he said out loud! Talk about being a baby! He was a grown man for crying out loud! But here he was crying because he missed his mom. He was repulsed with himself for how pathetic he sounded.

But Johanssen didn't look at him like he was acting stupid or immature. Her face filled with undeniable compassion like she understood and felt the weight of it too. She reached out and took his hand. "Come on," she said quietly.

He followed her without hesitation. He held on tightly to her hand as they made their way back to his room and it felt so good. He still felt awkward asking for her help but he couldn't deny how very good it felt to have her support right now. When they got inside his room she went straight to his bed and pointed. "Sit down," she said calmly.

This was more direct than she usually was with him but he didn't mind. It wasn't a command but a direction and he needed all of those he could these days. It felt good that she was here, that she was in control and he wasn't alone. It felt like it was going to be alright. He got on the bed and she followed him. Before he could get embarrassed she faced him and wrapped her arms tightly around him pulling him close to her and cuddling him.

They had never done this before and Mark would have felt embarrassed by the closeness of this if it didn't feel so wonderful. His body still constantly ached despite the good painkillers he was on and it felt amazingly warm and comfortable being wrapped up next to her. It made him feel a whole litany of emotions to feel so loved and cared for but rather than run from that he just threw himself into the experience. He tucked his head against her shoulder and held on tight.

It was impossible to stop the tears now and he cried softly. He felt so safe with her. Safety had become a foreign state of being for him and it was great to be reminded what it felt like. It felt alright to do this and he wasn't ashamed anymore. He wasn't alone and he was being taken care of. He buried his face against her shoulder soaking up both the physical and emotional comforts this offered and wondered how his mind could have been so screwed up in the beginning that it could have rejected this.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked after he had stopped crying and they'd been in silence for a while.

He fought the instant impulse to say 'no' and keep his feelings locked inside. He had to fight that, he had to learn to share, or he would continue to retreat into himself. It was difficult though. Even before he'd gotten stuck on Mars he hadn't been someone who was known for talking seriously about his feelings. He had been known for making jokes and keeping things light and while that had been a benefit to the well-being of the crew even then he'd known part of it was a defense mechanism to protect himself.

As if sensing the difficulty of it for him she started to rub his back slowly while her arms were still wrapped around him. It was like she knew doing something like that would crack him open like an egg.

"It just was hard, you know?' he admitted. "I haven't actually seen her since... _everything_ happened and it was just overwhelming."

She squeezed her arms around him tightly in understanding. "You must miss her."

"I do. So much. It wasn't until I saw her I realized just how much. I just wish we were home already."

"Me too," she said. She could have offered him platitudes; most people would have. She could have told him that they would get there soon enough and that it would be alright. He knew that, of course, logically he knew that, but that wouldn't make him feel better _today_. Their homecoming was still months away and he respected her so much for not acting like that wait was nothing and for not casting away his feelings. Instead, she let him acknowledge the pain of waiting and let him know that she felt it too. She understood missing home; of course, she understood that. They were together in this and he was so glad of that.

They were silent for a while and that was fine. Just being together was enough. He delighted himself in just knowing that she was there, in being so close that he felt the beat of her heart. It didn't even feel strange that there was a several minute break in the conversation before he took it up again. "She cried so much. She was smiling and she kept saying they were good tears. But I know...I could see how worried she'd been. I hate that I put her through that. Months of thinking her only son was dead...then more than a year of worrying about whether I would make it or not. It must have been torture."

"I can't imagine."

It was several more minutes before Mark noticed that Johanssen's breathing had been altered. He listened for a while before he was sure and then he pulled his head back so that he could look at her. It was easy to see that she'd been trying to keep it quiet but in such close proximity it was impossible to hide that she was crying. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen her cry before, not like this, and he wondered what had brought it on.

"Sorry," she said trying to smile when she saw him looking up at her.

"What's wrong?" he asked with concern.

"Nothing. I'm fine. I'm sorry." She wiped a hand across her face and tried to remove the tears but it was too late to pretend that she wasn't upset.

"Come on," he said, gently. "If I can be honest with you then you can be honest with me too, right?"

She smiled for real this time, through the tears. "Of course. But I'm supposed to be making _you_ feel better right now."

"If you're upset it would make me feel better to help," he said and he truly meant it. It felt their positions had slightly reversed for a moment and that was good. She had helped him so much and he wanted to be able to do the same for her.

She took a deep breath and relented. "I was just thinking about your mom and how hard it must have been on her. Knowing how terrible it felt to me when we thought you were gone...I can't imagine what that would feel like to her as your mother."

Mark had never died. He'd always known that he was alive but everyone else had not. It was hard for him to remember that for months the people he loved had really believed he was dead. It was a bit surreal to realize that while he'd been working furiously to construct his potato garden they'd been grieving. And even after they'd found out he was alive they still had to wait and worry for each update or satellite photo to know he was still safe. He'd known every minute how he was doing but they had not. He'd been so focused on his struggle to stay alive that it had taken almost all of his thoughts. He felt guilty now as he realized that he hadn't spent much time thinking outside of himself and wondering how anyone else was handling his situation.

But now he had the time and he could see how hard it had been on her. It had left a wound. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He could see that she did but she hesitated. "Are you sure you want to hear about it?"

She was afraid it would upset him. Maybe it would, but he still wanted to know. He wanted her to able to talk to him like he was able to talk to her. "Yes. Please, tell me."

She started to cry more as she thought about it. "It was awful. It was the worst day of my life. I couldn't believe what was happening. I looked over at your empty seat and it was like it wasn't real. I felt like I couldn't survive the ride having to look at it, knowing what it meant. I kept seeing you fly into the distance...I knew I wasn't supposed to cry, that I was supposed to be focused but I just couldn't help it."

Now he was the one rubbing her back as she talked and cried. "When we got back to the Hermes I just wanted to be alone. I didn't know if I could get through the work we had to do as soon as we got here. The silence...that was the worst of it. No one said anything except what was necessary and that was the worst thing. Because it was the proof...everything everyone wasn't saying meant it was real. If you had been there you would have found a way to make us all laugh and joke even though the mission had been scrubbed. But it was silent and that meant you were really gone."

Somehow he'd always known the truth of what she was saying. But hearing her say it, seeing it in front of him now, it was like he was surprised to hear it. "Really?" he asked. He didn't mean to because it sounded like he was fishing for praise but in his disbelief he couldn't help himself.

"Of course," she said quickly, surprised at the question. "NASA would say that it was hard but that we 'were holding up' but we _weren't_ ," she said with a bit of venom. "It was like all the life had left this ship. We were going through the motions, completing our duties but we weren't fine. We were all suffering but silent. We didn't talk about it I guess because we were afraid of what would happen if we did. We fell apart without you."

She paused and looked at him with more intent. "Mark...how could you have doubted how much we missed you?"

"I wouldn't say I doubted it. I just...I guess I never realized what it must have been like for you guys. I'm sorry."

"You know, Lewis didn't order us to come back. She made us all a part of that decision. We couldn't have jumped faster to say 'yes'!" she said with a smile. "She couldn't even get through explaining it before we were all interrupting her to tell her that's what we wanted. She said that if even one of said we didn't want to go then we wouldn't. _Of course_ , that didn't happen. We were all dying to come back for you," she said hugging him. "When we knew we were going back it...it was the first day it felt like we were us again, like we were a crew again."

It was overwhelming to hear how much he had been missed then, how much he was wanted now. Of course, he had known these things. He knew that it was only the isolation and the way it had messed up his brain that had produced the lies that nobody cared. He'd known it wasn't true; after all, so many people had been working and fighting for him. Still, as irrational as it was, for most of the time he'd been on Mars he had felt abandoned.

"Is it too much?" she asked quietly a bit worried when she saw him feeling overcome and beginning to cry again.

"No. Yes. Maybe. I don't know," he said and they both laughed and hugged.

She bit her lip nervously before taking a deep breath and speaking again. "This is going to sound cliché but I'm just going to say it. When something like this happens... you realize what's important and that some things just aren't. I didn't say it, before; I guess I was afraid. But I regretted it and now that you're back...well, I'm just going to tell you."

She paused gathering her courage and he waited in anticipation. "I love you, Mark."

She said it with such uncertainty and he could tell she was still worried about how it would be received. Why was that people felt so afraid to tell each other how they really felt? Why did it so often take something drastic to bring out these confessions?

But he smiled now back at her as he said, "I love you too."

She looked relieved and happy and she curled up in a surprisingly small ball next to him and he hugged her tight. She was still taking him by surprise. She still always knew just what he needed. And, this time, he seemed to know what she needed too. He was glad that he had sought her out today and that they'd both been able to get something out of it.

She was right; they couldn't have gone through what they had without being altered. Some things seemed ridiculous now. And some things, like this, were far more precious.

* * *

 **Mission Day 702**

Mark was in his room when he heard the now familiar knock on his door. "Come in," he called out, his spirits already lifting in anticipation of this daily ritual. But when the door opened the face he saw was not the one he had expected.

"Beck?" he asked, clearly surprised to see him.

Beck stepped just barely inside the door, like he was already preparing to be leave; like he expected to be asked to leave. He looked nervous though when he spoke Mark could tell he was trying his best to sound strong and unaffected. "Hey, Mark. Uh, I know you were expecting Beth but she thought you might not mind if I came instead today."

Part of Mark _did_ mind. But it wasn't because he didn't like Beck or because he didn't want to spend time with him. It was just that Mark had finally gotten to the place where he was comfortable being with Johanssen and with Beck he would be starting all over. Mark hated that part of him wanted to have her instead when Beck had so obviously acted bravely to put himself out there and come here.

"If she was wrong...I'll leave, of course," Beck said, in the long silence before Mark spoke. It was clear that Beck would be upset if he had to leave and seeing that helped to push Mark into action.

"No, no. Come in," Mark said, waving Beck inside.

Beck looked relieved but seemed to be trying to play it cool as he pulled up a chair to sit across from Mark. He always had been more sensitive than Mark was and he wore what he felt on his sleeve. It wasn't that he was overly emotional it was just that you could usually tell what he was thinking or feeling. Given the struggle that Mark had been going through lately he envied that ease of emotion and easy display of affection.

However, what Mark saw in Beck's movements now made him feel bad because he knew he was the cause of it. Beck looked so troubled and uncomfortable and Mark felt awful for not speaking to him sooner. It had been almost two weeks since he'd been rescued and his subsequent humiliating freak-out in front of Beck. In the time since then Mark had been getting so much better thanks to Johanssen's help. He was making his way on that long road of recovery. He, shamefully, hadn't given much thought about what Beck might be going through during this time.

Of course, he and Beck had talked since that day. Beck was his doctor and Mark needed a lot of treatment. He'd seen Beck every day both in his role as his doctor and around the ship as his fellow crew mate. But they hadn't _really_ talked. It had all been very brief and they hadn't discussed what had happened that day at all. Mark had been embarrassed and had rather wanted to forget the incident. He hadn't stopped to consider how all of this had affected his friend. It was painful to realize how out of practice be was knowing how to be around others and he knew he needed to learn again how to think about someone besides himself.

Knowing Beck he had probably blamed himself all this time for doing something wrong when he had done absolutely nothing wrong. He would surely take the distance between them to mean that Mark was upset or didn't want to be around him. Mark didn't know why he had let his pride get in the way; it was in shatters now anyway.

"I'm sorry," Mark said sincerely. He felt terrible. Beck had clearly been hurting and he didn't want that for him. Beck obviously had wanted to spend time with him but he thought Mark didn't want that.

"For what?" Beck asked.

"I'm sorry I haven't talked to you sooner about...everything. I just didn't know how to."

"It's alright," Beck said, trying so hard to be understanding and as low-pressure as possible. "I'm just glad you been getting on so well with Beth." He smiled but it looked pained.

"I have," Mark said trying to encourage him. "I really have. It was a good call on your part."

Beck shrugged. "I was just doing my job."

Mark smiled. Chris had never been a man that ever 'just' did his job. He always went above and beyond and yet he never took extra credit when he excelled and soared above anyone's expectations. He did what he did because he actually cared. Always, even with strangers, he always had and with his crew it went even deeper.

"Yes," Mark agreed humoring him. "But you're still really good at it. The kind folks at NASA keep telling me that I've 'endured something no one ever has;' as if I need the reminder. But that also means that you have to treat something no one ever has and you had to do it all on your own out here. And it _has_ helped."

Beck smiled slightly but he wouldn't give in to the praise not that Mark had expected him to. Mark just wanted him to know he was grateful because he was _so_ grateful. Of all the doctors that could have been assigned to this mission he was beyond thankful that it was Beck they had gotten. He wasn't just smart (though he was brilliant) he was also caring and sometimes all the book learning in the world couldn't replace the medicine that a sensitive heart could give. Mark was not sure any other doctor would have had the heart enough or an open enough mind to have prescribed this particular 'treatment' for Mark and he wondered what would have happened to him without it. Mark found himself overcome with a sudden strong wave of gratitude for Beck that was difficult to put to words.

But Mark could see that it was something else besides praise or thanks that Beck longed for. He was looking for affection and Mark wanted to be able to give it to him but this all felt so awkward. He didn't want it to be and he reminded himself it had felt awkward with Johanssen too in the beginning. He just had to keep pressing on for it to get easier. "I should have talked to you sooner. I did _want_ to. I just… I was embarrassed about what had happened."

"You didn't need to be."

"I know that, now. I just hadn't expected that to happen at all. I mean, I've never dealt with anything like this before. It took me completely by surprise and I was... ashamed you had to see me that way," Mark said, feeling a rush of that left over embarrassment flush his cheeks as he looked down.

"You know you can be honest with me, right?" Beck asked quietly.

Mark felt the sting of tears in his eyes at the eagerness in Beck's voice. Beck _wanted_ him to be honest with him. Mark didn't want to cry. Again. But it was going to happen. Again. Was he going to be a crier for now on? "I know," he said, trying to swallow down the sound of the emotion in his voice.

"I would never judge you."

Mark knew that too. Beck was a good man and friend. He was a man of integrity and always showed people the greatest understanding. Mark had never believed he would do otherwise. That hadn't been the issue with Mark. "I just...wanted to be strong."

This was really hard for him to admit but he owed Beck an explanation. He knew he should say more than this but he couldn't force himself to say the full truth: that he had wanted Beck, specifically, to think he was strong. He valued Beck's opinion of him and he hadn't wanted it to change.

Beck looked like he wanted to reach out to him but then thought better of it. There was that wretched invisible barrier again. Mark been able to break through it with Johanssen a while ago and he'd almost forgotten how much he hated it coming in between him and the people he liked.

"Mark, you are the most incredible man I know." Beck looked a little uncertain once he said it, like it was too sentimental but it was out there and he would never take it back.

 _Are_. Beck still thought he was brave and he was embarrassed by how much that was a relief to him. Beck's opinion of him hadn't been altered even though he knew what Mark was struggling with. Mark realized he wasn't going to lose Beck even though they both knew he was different now.

There were definitely tears in his eyes as looked at Beck. He realized just then how much he had missed Beck and not just in the time he had been on Mars; he'd been missing him since he got on this ship. How could he have let himself forget the elation he'd first felt upon seeing Beck and waste two weeks that they could have spent catching up?

He remembered again how wonderful it had been to see Beck for the first time back in the MAV. Mark knew he would never be able to adequately describe to anyone what the isolation he'd experienced had really been like. He was the only person who knew what it was like to be completely alone for 18 months. No one but him would ever know the pain of going so long without hearing someone else's voice or the sound of their laugh. It had been agony to go so long without having someone else's eyes looking at him or their hands to reach out to him. But no one else would ever know the heights of joy he'd felt when they came back for him either. He'd been so elated when Beck had floated in to meet him that he'd wanted to freeze that moment and live it for another 18 months to make up for the previous ones he'd spend alone. It was hard to tell what he might have done, crazed with his feelings as he was, if there hadn't been two large suits between them and a strict timeline to keep him from dwelling on the moment as he had wanted to.

"I missed you," Mark said. It sounded so sentimental for him to say because he was The Funny One. But Beck was The Sensitive One and he didn't mind at all.

"I missed you too."

Beck looked so eager. He was hanging on every word. Mark could see that Beck was dying to hug him but he was afraid it would be unbearable or unwanted. Mark realized that they hadn't hugged once since he'd been rescued. They'd all been involved in the post-rescue group hug and some half hug pats on the back but they'd never really truly hugged once. Beck had always been a hugger and while Mark hadn't really been one before he was quickly becoming one these days.

It was funny and a little ridiculous how dramatically things had changed for Mark since his arrival. In the beginning, he'd feared people touching him and what it might make him do; it had been too much. Now, he feared them stopping. Now, when someone touched him it seemed the desire he had for physical contact was insatiable; he never wanted them to stop. He practically rushed into every chance he got, quick and eager as if he had to hurry to get all he could from them because he might not get another chance. He was drawn to the crew like magnets, attaching himself to one of them within a few seconds of encountering them. This was much more what he had been expecting upon his arrival but it was still such a dramatic change from what he had experienced in that first week back that it was a bit unnerving.

He was glad his crew was so good to him and understanding because he knew, even with the restraint he was exercising, that he was really getting a bit handsy these days. He knew it must be startling to them to watch him go from being distant and wary to clingy and manic but they never expressed any displeasure with him. He was glad they didn't require explanations because it was difficult even for him to account for the change. Everything, every single touch, even possibly insignificant gestures, meant the world to him now. All of it served to remind him that his body was alive, that it felt _good_ things now, and he was well and surrounded by other people who were too. It still surprised him and often overwhelmed him.

But there had still been a barrier standing in between him and Beck. He knew it was his own doing because he placed his pride above their friendship in importance. He had started gravitating towards the others with ease but with Beck he had hesitated. Mark missed him all the more and thanks to Johanssen and the help she'd been giving him it wasn't hard for him to lean in and go for it.

Mark reached out and hugged Beck almost without even having to think about it. It felt like Beck was surprised because he was slightly hesitant at first, but since he was more than willing he soon scooted in closer and pulled Mark tighter against him. Beck's arms wrapped tight at Mark's sides but Mark hardly noticed the pain of it in his ribs because of the frantic way that Beck hands clutched at his back. It felt so much like the desperate way Mark had been feeling lately around the others. It was comforting to think Beck might feel that way around him too. The solidarity of it made Mark feel he could bury his face in Beck's shoulder.

Hugging Chris was not like hugging Beth. They were both comforting but in different ways and Mark liked that they were unique. Chris' arms were strong and steady, a sensation Mark was not used to but knew he could quickly get accustomed to. It made him feel safe like he wanted to open up even more parts of himself and give them over. With his face pressed into Beck's shoulder he was overwhelmed with the comfort of his soft sweater and the smell of his strong soap and it was all he could do to stop himself from rubbing his face into this place and trying to disappear into it. He reminded himself, as he often did these days when he felt himself consumed, not to go too far and get weird. But if he was reading Beck correctly he did not seem to be bothered yet.

It was easy for Mark to recognize the subtle shaking that meant Beck was crying. It sounded terrible but the realization made Mark feel good. Of course, it wasn't because he wanted his friend to suffer. It was just that when he was on Mars he'd felt so distant from everyone. He had felt completely cut off from anyone and so alone. And even though this was sorrow it made Mark feel like things were going to be alright because Beck was there and they were together; Mark was no longer suffering all on his own.

He had told himself that the crew would be sad when they thought he was dead but it was hard to really imagine at the time that they were out there feeling pain on his behalf. He'd mourned for them, in a way, even though they had all been safe. He'd still lost them and he had missed them so much he'd grieved. He'd felt so alone in that but he hadn't been, not really. They had suffered too. Though he hadn't been able to see it they had been struggling along with him. He had witnessed that first-hand with Johanssen and now he was with Beck. Being witness to his tears made Mark feel like he was sharing in something, that he was included again.

"I was so glad when we found out that we were going back for you," Beck said, the distinct wobble of tears in his voice. "I mean, we already knew by then that you were going to be rescued but I was so excited when we found out that _we_ could be the ones to do it. Of course, I would have wanted you to be rescued however it needed to happen but I was glad we got to do. We're your crew. You're ours not somebody else's."

It was a sense of belonging that Mark's lonely aching heart had been yearning for. He mentally urged Beck to keep going, to feed his soul what it so desperately needed. He was getting teary too as he hungrily soaked up the attention.

"It was the chance to fix what we'd done," Beck added miserably.

"It wasn't your fault," Mark was quick to reassure, squeezing him a little tighter. He'd been telling the whole crew this for weeks. They'd all been so understanding to give him all the reassurances he needed, he'd give them as many as they needed too.

"I thought you were dead," Beck said sorrowfully. "I...I'm sorry...I..."

Listening to Beck struggling Mark realized that there was something else, something he didn't understand that was troubling Beck. He pulled back so that he could look Beck in the face but he wrapped his hands around Beck's elbows so that their arms were still firmly gripping each other.

"What is it?" he asked.

Beck seemed like he wanted to look away and Mark couldn't imagine what it was that was bothering his friend so much. He squeezed Beck's arms tight. "You can tell me," he encouraged.

"I'm sorry. I...I believed it first. I said you were... _dead_ first. Said you would only survive a minute after decompression, that it was impossible for you to still be alive when we weren't getting readings off your monitor. _I_ convinced the others. I convinced Lewis. She wanted to stay out there and look for you longer but I convinced her to leave."

"Chris, man, listen to me," Mark said with surprising firmness in the face of Beck's distress. "If you hadn't left when you all did then the MAV would have tipped and we all would have been stuck. Then none of us would have survived. I'm glad you left when you did. I wouldn't have wanted any of you to go through all that."

Mark had struggled a lot with this concept already. He'd had a lot of time to think about how he felt about it. Though there had been many times when he was exhausted and bitterly lonely that he had wished that they hadn't left or even that he'd been stranded with one other person. But it was a selfish and irrational wish and he'd eventually arrived at the logical conclusion: If even one other person had been with him the food problem would have made survival impossible. He had barely made it with it being just him. And really, when he was being his more unselfish self, he didn't want any of his crew to have gone through what he had. He cared for them and he wouldn't want any of them to have suffered what he did.

"It was my fault. Maybe if she'd stayed a minute longer...maybe she could have found you. It might have been possible."

It was impossible. Mark knew it. Beck probably knew it too when he wasn't allowing his emotions to overpower his reason. Mark wanted to tell him that he had nothing to feel guilty about. Beck hadn't done anything wrong and he wasn't mad. But Beck was a man consumed by his guilt and desperately seeking forgiveness. Mark knew he didn't need to give it but Beck need to hear it. For that reason only he would do it. He hated that Beck had carried this guilt even this long and he would do what he could to relieve him from carrying it any longer.

"Listen," Mark said firmly, getting Beck to look up at him as he spoke. "It's alright. You know I forgive you," he said with as much reassurance as he could.

Beck broke out into a fresh wave of tears, relieved ones, Mark hoped. He leaned in to hug Beck again and he realized then how desperately Beck had needed this just as much as he did. He had been thinking that he was the only one who needed so much encouragement and comfort but he was beginning to realize that the whole crew might need it too.

"You were dead," Beck cried. "I thought you were dead. For four months I thought you were gone."

"It's alright now," Mark soothed, giving Beck's back a few firm pats. "I'm right here. I'm alright."

It was the first time he'd said those words himself and actually believed them. He would have his moments, lots of them he was sure, when it wouldn't feel that way. But in the end he felt he really was going to be just fine. He was going to overcome this thing, this whole crazy experience.

He was still holding on to Beck when he heard a slight click of the door. He might have missed it if he wasn't facing the door. Johanssen poked her head just barely into the room. She obviously wanted to check up on them and when she saw them she smiled, radiating happiness and relief. Mark smiled back at her and nodded his head at her.

She walked quickly and eagerly into the room and wrapped her arms around them both. Beck just then noticed her and lifted up his head to smile at her, laughing a little as did.

As Mark looked at them both, as he felt their arms around him, he knew he was going to be alright. He could see that he wasn't the only one that Mars had screwed up but he also knew it wasn't going to get the best of any of them. Together _they_ were going to be alright. He had Chris and Beth to help him through and Mark couldn't help but feel, despite every ridiculous event that had led to this moment, how very lucky he was.

* * *

 **Mission Day 897**

I don't think that Chris necessarily meant for my therapy to last for our entire journey home but it has. Of course, it's not really therapy anymore and it's definitely not something any of us have to force ourselves to do. It's not really planned like it used to be but every day we spend a decent amount of our free time together making sure to maintain a lot of physical contact during whatever activity we choose. Sometimes it's just Beth and me. Sometimes it's just Chris and me. But, more often than not, it's all three of us together.

When this all began I felt guilty like I was imposing on them but over time it's become clear to me just how much they need the comfort too. Many aspects of my recovery are unique to the situation that only I went through but some things, like desiring comfort and connection, are things we all experience. I've had plenty of rough times and lots of ups and downs but so have they. Little by little they have let me see their struggles and let me help them which has made me feel more like we are on even ground. I like to think I've helped them a least a little; they've helped me far more than I think they realize.

Tonight we're all together. We're in my room sitting on the bed watching a movie off my laptop which is sitting on a chair in front of us. I'm happily stuck in the middle, Beth is to my left holding my hand and Chris is on my right with his arm slung lazily around my shoulders, occasionally reaching out and touching Beth on the other side. It would have been hard to believe in the beginning that we could have arrived at a place where it is so effortless for us to just be together but it has become so comfortable we don't even have to think about it anymore. We just know how to be there for each other and it's wonderful.

Of course, sometimes they have to spend time together just the two of them and I understand that. They've been so considerate of me and my feelings it was a long time before they even brought it up. I understand that sometimes they want to spend the evening alone but even when they do they still always make some time for me. But more often than not they prefer to include me in their plans. I really couldn't have asked for better friends. I must admit I get a little misty when I think about it all thanks to this new mushy-gushy Mars altered heart. Not that I'm going to go around talking about it but it's how I feel anyway.

When the movie ends none of us make a move to leave. It's silent as we are all caught up in thought.

"So...tomorrow," Chris says, finally bringing up the topic we are thinking about but that none of us has voiced yet.

 _Tomorrow_

The word is loaded. Tomorrow we will finally arrive back on Earth. But even though we can see it outside the window it still doesn't seem real. There's so much to think about and we're all feeling the weight of it.

Not surprisingly, Beth turns to make the conversation a little better and lighter. "I can't wait to see the sunrise," she says with a small smile. "I didn't realize how much I enjoyed it until we spent so much time in the dark. What about you boys? What are looking forward to seeing?"

I let Chris answer first. "I'm looking forward to rain. I always did love a good thunderstorm," he says.

"I can't wait to walk through real green grass and dirt that doesn't have my own waste mixed into it. I may never wear shoes again," I say with a laugh. I'm only half-kidding.

I can't wait to feel the earth against my skin. I was never hippy-dippy like most of the botanists I've known but I can maybe see where they were coming from now. As much I enjoyed nature before I appreciate it so much more now. There are so many things that just _happen_ on their own on Earth that on Mars and in space you have to fight and work so hard for. There are so many millions of tiny amazing components that make life possible that you don't even think about until they're gone. They truly are miracles and I can't wait to observe them again. I am eager to return to an environment that was made for me rather than one that constantly tries to kill me.

All those amazing natural miracles aside there are some other less natural creature comforts to look forward to. "What's the first thing you want to eat?" I ask them.

This decision really isn't up to us as we will be spending a terrible about of time in quarantine and therapy as soon as we arrive but it's fun to dream about. Our first meal on Earth may not be up to us but the first one after we break out of NASA's grip will be.

"McDonald's," Chris says right away with a dreamy look on his face.

"Really? That's what you want? Fast food?"

"Yeah. I may be a doctor but even I am tired of all this nutritiously balanced food. I want some unhealthy greasy fried cheesy goodness. I'm going to order one of everything and see how far I can get," he says with a smile.

His smile is contagious and I have to admit when he puts it like that it does sound good. I turn to Beth. "What about you?"

She gets that same dreamy smile on her face as she thinks. "Chocolate molten cake."

Chris and I roll our eyes at this so stereotypical female answer. "What about you?" she says giving me a small nudge.

"Uh, duh. Pizza," I say like it should be obvious. I guess this answer is also stereotypical of someone who grew up in Chicago but stereotype or not that's what I want.

The levity of the moment passes and we fall back into silence. There are a lot of things to look forward to but at the same time there is a lot to be nervous about too. We have been away for years. No one in the history of space travel has ever been on a mission for this long. There is no precedent for what awaits us.

"I can't believe that we are actually going to be on Earth tomorrow," I say.

"So, how are you feeling about that?" Chris asks cautiously.

Leave it him to note the change in the tone of the conversation and check on my emotional health. "Honestly, I'm not real sure. It's a lot to think about. We've been gone for so long and so much has changed."

"At least we'll be there together," Beth says in a reassuring tone.

 _Except that we won't_ , I think. I have avoided this kind of thinking like the plague but with less than 24 hours to go I guess I can't expect to escape it any longer. For the past seven months I have gotten quite used to always having them around. I know and will readily admit that I owe my sanity to their daily presence and attentions. I really did not expect to have so much psychological baggage from my time spent on Mars or that it would be so hard to adjust to life back on the Hermes. If it were not for their quick and persistent care I know I would have lost it in a big way.

Now, I'm going to be back on Earth and they won't be with me. I know enough now to know that even though I am looking forward to being home adjusting to life on Earth is going to be difficult. There is going to be lots of emotional growing pains; how will I do it on my own? I haven't even really allowed myself to think of what's ahead. Whenever I have started to think of all the people I'll have to talk to, all the T.V appearances and speaking arrangements and other P.R. related stuff that is ahead of me I have felt a bit panicked. The whole world knows me now, my face, my struggle and they'll want to know even more; it's overwhelming. It sounds strange to say, considering everything that I did to survive on Mars, but I don't know if I can do it all alone. I don't think I want to either.

There is a lull in the conversation and I try to think of something funny to say but I've got nothing. The future is now weighing down on me. It just hit me with full force for the first time that moments like these, where we're just hanging out together, are over. There isn't enough humor in the world to cover up how bad that feels.

I notice that Beth gives Chris a loaded look like they've got something up their sleeves. Knowing the two of them they probably do. Despite how sad I'm starting to feel, I can't help but smile a bit internally at their antics and be eager to hear what it's about this time.

Noticing his cue, Chris speaks up and I pretend to act somewhat surprised like they aren't terribly obvious. "Actually, we have something we wanted to share with you."

"Oh, yeah?" I say playing along. "What is it?"

In retrospect, I know their news should have been obvious but in my defense I was busy attempting to pull myself out of my growing melancholy over our impending separation.

Chris looks at Beth and I turn to look at her. She's holding out her left hand and lo and behold there's a ring on her finger.

I've actually been expecting this but somehow I'm still surprised that is has actually happened. "We haven't told the rest of the crew yet; we wanted you to be the first to know," Beth says with a growing smiling.

I take her hand in mine as I look at the ring. She is glowing, actually glowing. Of course, she is. She's like sunshine on any given day and this is no ordinary day. I want to say something snarky to her but I just can't; she looks so happy. "Congratulations," I say with true sincerity.

"Thanks, Mark," she says beaming.

Chris, of course, is another story and I don't have any trouble giving him a hard time. I give his arm a playful punch. "You brought an engagement ring with you on a space mission?" I ask in shock but also I'm a little impressed with his determination. I know he's been pining for Beth for years. "That's a pretty bold move considering you're really not that impressive."

He tries and fails to look offended. "Well, it's like you say man, 'plan for every outcome,'" he says with a smug, self-satisfied smile.

Beth rolls her eyes like she doesn't love it, like she didn't say yes to this dork. Chris just looks content. The man waited for a long time and it paid off.

I am not jealous. I am _definitely_ not jealous. I mean, it would make no sense to be jealous. I'm happy for them, for real, not fake at all, happy for them. I'm glad they're together and happy; it's what I've wanted for them for a long time.

And yet, there's something in my gut that is something else; something that isn't happy. I know what it is because I've been doing my best to ignore it, even though it gets more insistent with every day that brings us closer to Earth.

It's over. We've been a team and a family for so long but now it's going to be over. The six of us have been on this ship for years and training together for years even before that. But that's all going to end soon. I know we all say we're going to stay in touch and all that crap but I know better; things will never be the same. It's hard but I've accepted that (mostly anyways). At least I have with the others. But with Chris and Beth it's different. _They're_ different. I've been trying to make myself gradually let go of them but I obviously haven't because of how I'm feeling now. I really don't want this news to hurt me but honestly it does.

This feels like the final act that's shouting to me 'everybody is moving on except you.' I've felt this around the others for weeks as they have talked about their families and their plans when they get home but this is the first time I realize it's true of these two as well. I guess part of me hoped I would be able to hold on to them somehow. It sounds so melodramatic but I realize that I am now the only one who is alone. I'm the only one who won't be going home to somebody. Of course, I'm happy that we're almost home but I think I'm the only one who doesn't know what it is that I'm moving on to. This is just the beginning for Chris and Beth. It sounds embarrassingly maudlin but I can't help but feel that it is the end for me.

Despite my most valiant effort to conceal these thoughts some of it must show. Post-Mars Mark Watney unfortunately wears his feelings on his sleeve more than the Pre-Mars Mark Watney did. I used to be able to cover up anything with humor and sarcasm and it still surprises me that so many of my real feelings show up on my face these days. Beth must see some of the sadness that I'm feeling even though I really don't want to be sad at all because she gives me a look, _that_ look, my favorite look, the one that makes me feel all the mushy feely things. "That's not all," she says smiling at me and then looks over at Chris. "We have something we want to ask you."

Chris gives my shoulder a pat and a squeeze with his hand and I turn to look at him. "We want to know if you would come and live with us."

To say I'm surprised would be an understatement. To say that I'm pleased would be an even greater understatement. I study his face to see if he's serious and I can't find any hint that he's joking. I look at Beth and she's smiling and nodding encouragingly. It looks like they actually mean it.

"Guys..." I say, struggling for words as I try to overcome the shock. I'm in the middle so I can't look at them both at the same time and so I stare down at my lap. "I don't know what to say."

"We would understand if you want to get rid of us after all this time of us forcing ourselves on you but we'd like if you would stay with us," Chris says. He's being so genuine and it's starting to feel overwhelming. It would be easier if he made more of a joke of it but he and Beth are being serious.

Still, it's laughable that _I_ would want to get rid of _them_ and I actually do laugh a little. "I don't want to get rid of you two."

"Then, are you saying yes?" Beth asks hopefully.

If I'm being honest I would have to admit that the idea of being back on Earth, of living in a house alone again has terrified me for a while now. I think that all that isolation on Mars was enough alone time to last me for a lifetime. Earth feels a little foreign after all this time and I'm worried about navigating it all on my own. I know that the two of them must have picked up on all of this. I want to believe that they actually want me to stay with them but I can't help feeling they're offering because they still feel obligated to take care of me. The life that awaits me does scare me but I'm not willing to sacrifice their happiness just to make things easier on me.

This is going to be more difficult than I imagined. It was hard enough to think of letting them go before but it's near torture to have to refuse this offer when it's selfishly exactly what I want. Now, I'm glad I'm in the middle and can't look at them both because it's an excuse not to have to look either one of them in the eyes. "I _so_ appreciate all that you both have done for me. I don't take your help for granted at all. And it's really nice of you to offer but you don't have to do this," I say because it's what you're supposed to say. "I will be fine."

Actually, I'm afraid that last bit probably isn't true. Coming back from Mars was much harder than I imagined and I don't know if I could have gotten through it without them. It was a difficult transition and that was on a ship with only five other people, people that I would trust with my life over and over again. The Hermes has been a sanctuary compared to what I'm going to. I'm about to be exposed to the entire world and I'm afraid I won't be able to handle all the pressure that awaits me.

Beth reaches out and takes my hand in hers. I was tapping my leg with my fingers and she holds on tight to still my movements. Yes, boys and girls that is indeed an anxious habit and, yes, it is a new development! The past seven months have been a truly 'enlightening' experience of self-discovery. This habit is just further proof that for all the progress I've made I still have a long way to go. I didn't even realize I was doing it this time. It's been better lately but I still do it when I'm feeling particularly stressed or nervous.

Beth tugs on my hand to force me to look up at her and I am embarrassed at how obvious my feelings must be. Am I going to be this emotional for the rest of my life? "Mark, do _you_ want to come and live with us?"

She's asking me directly so I have to answer honestly with my true feelings. I know the trap she's setting for me but I still have to answer. "Yes, but-"

"Then that's all that matters."

"No," I say shaking my head because as much as I want it to be that simple it just isn't. It can't be. "You're getting married. You don't want me hanging around."

"Of course we do," she says with feeling.

Chris tightens his arm around me and speaks. "This isn't some sort of pity offer. We really want to have you." He somehow always seems to know what it is I'm thinking and has a perfect word in reply.

Great, now there are tears in my eyes. The feelings are growing, getting stronger because they really do sound like they care. "I'll just be in the middle," I say and, of course, by the sound of my voice you can tell I'm crying. I'm not exactly doing a good job of proving myself to be a normal, capable and emotionally healthy person able to stand on my own two feet.

"You say that likes it's a bad thing," Beth says with a smile.

 _Isn't it?_ I think but thankfully have the presence of mind not to voice. I will be in the way. I'll be a burden. Mars really screwed me up and I know I'm not the same that I used to be and I never will be exactly the same again. I know I'm difficult to handle at times. I'm a mess with all the nightmares and panic attacks and waves of depression. They have been beyond understanding about it all but I know it can't be easy on them.

"Yeah, you being in the middle is probably the only reason we finally got together," Beck says, with a small laugh. "You kept pushing us towards each other when we were trying our best to ignore our feelings for each other."

"Yeah," Beth agrees. "You just wouldn't stop sticking your nose in our business."

They both laugh a little and I do too even though embarrassingly there are still tears in my eyes. I try to brush them off without either of them noticing.

Then Beth turns serious and if I'm not mistaken she's a little upset now too. She squeezes my hand, more for her own comfort than mine, I think this time. "We would truly miss you. We already know what it is to live without our best friend...and while we would let you go if that's what you really wanted...we don't really want to go back to being without you."

O.K. now I'm really crying and there's no denying it but she is too so I don't feel so bad. "Mark," Chris says. I meet his eyes and there is no pity there. There's no hesitation. I guess I still expect there to be some proof that they're doing this only for my benefit but it just isn't there. "We're a team, a family I think, the _three_ of us. We went to Mars together. Let's go to Earth together too."

I look back at Beth and she's nodding. "If you want that, we would love it."

I have to look away from them for a moment. They actually mean it. They _want_ me. Somehow, they want to continue to spend their days with my sorry hide. How can I express how relieved I am? The idea of coming home to someone, of having breakfast in the mornings with someone, of knowing as I sleep in the darkness at night that there is another living breathing soul in the same house…it's all I want. I feel a burst of excitement that is greater than any I've felt before when thinking of my future after the conclusion of this mission. I _do_ have someone to go home to. I know what I'm moving on to now.

I want to tell them they're my family. I want to tell them that I love them and how much it means to me to know that they love me too. They are choosing to stick with me even after they're technically required to. I want to tell them so much. But I'm still dealing with all these new strong feelings I've recently acquired and I'm still learning how to express them like a human being. I just do not have all the words or the strength to express them at this moment. So, instead, I take one of Beth's hands and one of Chris' and hold them tight.

"Yes," I say nodding slightly, finally answering them, still hardly believing what has just happened.

"Good," Beth says quietly. "We're going home."

I don't say what I'm thinking because it would be wildly emotional and the Post-Mars Mark Watney may be more emotional than Pre-Mars Mark Watney but he's not _that_ emotional. But as I hold their hands in mine and feel the press of each of them at my sides I really can't help but feel that I'm already there.


End file.
